Nine Millimeter
by Anonacci
Summary: The shell clattering to the floor is like the pounding of a gavel, sentencing them to a tentative new start and a renewed camaraderie that Chris been yearning for for years. But there's only so much that he can forgive and forget and, in the end, the only thing separating a man from a mad dog is the soft squeeze of a trigger and one nine millimeter bullet. [Chris x Wesker]


**chapter one || PERTH AIRPORT**

As the fourth most populous city on the continent of Australia, when the onslaught of virus outbreaks spread out of the United States the city of Perth crumbled quickly. Perhaps not as quickly as Sydney on the western coast, but fast enough that all that was left of the once magnificent skyscrapers were barren, shell-like structures. Chris might have even deemed it slightly hollow and sad if the city hadn't been so unbearably miserable instead.

It was February and back home in North America it would have been winter, but in Australia the temperature was peaking at one hundred degrees—and that was before he added the thick layers of bullet proof vests and weapons and fabrics that he had to wear. In the end he wasn't just stuffy or hot. He was _sweltering_. The sweat was making his body chaff uncomfortable in some of his more sensitive places and his arms were aching from how long he had been holding his gun up in a ready position.

In short, Perth wasn't a very enjoyable place to be during this time of the year.

Chris started as his radio crackled in his ear for a moment before the sound cleared up and he could make out a voice coming in over the communications system. "Redfield this is Hulet, over," the somewhat thready voice said. The man's tone was polite and patient as he waited for a response from the senior member of the Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance.

Reaching up to press the button on his headset that made his words transmit over the radio, he answered, "Go ahead, Hulet." He paused for a moment before adding a quick, "Over."

Their communication was a bit stiff because of the added words, but it was better to follow protocol when you were dealing with people that you didn't work with on a regular basis. Even though he was one of the co-founders of the BSAA, he didn't want to insult the Oceania Branch's personnel by not showing them the proper amount of respect.

"Northern Perth is empty, over," Hulet responded.

They had split the city into three districts: the north, the east, and the west. Each one of them was being checked for any bio-organic weapons and once they had been cleared they were going to proceed onto the south side of Perth.

Before he could answer Hulet another transmission was being sent over the radio. "Eastern side has been cleared, over," it said.

One more moment and then a third voice added, "The western part's quiet, too. Over."

Chris stopped moving. He had been covering Whiteman Park, a large area covered in a scruffy forest that sat on the top part of Perth. He was only a mile or so from finishing but he didn't expect any activity. When he had been called in to help the Oceania Branch with this mission he had been informed that all of the excitement was down south. They had intentionally left that part for last and it was good to hear that their onsite observations agreed with the initial report.

Deciding that enough was enough, he lowered his weapon and let his arms relax. Chris pressed the button on his headset again. "I copy. Let's meet up at Mount Hospital and then we'll hike up to the freeway and cross the Narrows Bridge, over."

Affirmative responses came through and then they all signed out. He grimaced as he trudged his way through the dusty landscape, the gritty substance kicked up by his steps making him feel grimy and unkempt. He ground his teeth together and kept walking, knowing that the truck was only a few more minutes away. He pushed onwards through the hardy trees that made up this region of the continent.

When he reached the truck he stowed the rifle that he had slung over his back and holstered his handgun. He climbed into the driver's seat, pushed the key into the ignition, and twisted it. The engine turned over once and then roared to life. Chris habitually checked his gas, relieved to see that he had three quarters of a tank left. The apocalyptic state of the world really made you appreciate your resources.

He turned out onto Marshall Road and then merged onto the highway, travelling west and then south when he switched onto the main street of the city. The hospital was located on Mounts Bay Road and he found it with little trouble, just following the little blue signs with the H's on them until he found the building. The three BSAA Special Operations Units were waiting for him as he pulled into the parking lot.

Each unit was made up of twelve people that were broken down into three groups of four. The ranking officer of each unit coordinated those three groups and passed out orders. As a Special Operations Agent he was higher up on the hierarchy that them, but he valued their input and was acting as an organizer, not a dictator.

"Alright," he said as he approached, addressing the three commanding officers. Hulet had control of Alpha Team, Dunneback had Beta Team, and Reddin was in charge of Gamma Team. He spread out a map of Perth across the hood of one of their Hummers and traced his finger across their route.

"We'll drive up to the Mitchell Freeway and from there continue on foot over the bridge that crosses Swan River. Narrows Bridge is about thirteen hundred feet long. It's five lanes wide on the side that we'll be crossing, but at one point narrows down to two because of deterioration. We'll start out in rows of four people each until we get past that choke point and then we can spread to better canvass the bridge." There were nods all around as the men approved of his thorough tactics. He wanted them all to know the plan before they went in. Today's goal was to keep casualties at a minimum.

He took a deep breath and then continued. "The south area is larger than all of what we've covered so far. It's also the area where we expect trouble. That's why we're going in together. Once we hit the other side of Narrows Bridge we'll be right by Richardson Park, Perth Zoo, and Sir James Mitchell Park. Alpha will take Richardson, Beta the zoo, and Gamma gets Sir James Mitchell. When your area's clear head down to South Perth Hospital. We'll gut it out and use it as our base of operations for the rest of this mission." They needed some place with medical supplies that they could come back to if someone got injured.

"A four man team from Gamma will stay and hold the building for us." They looked disgruntled, but nodded. Someone had to do it. "From there on we'll split again and take separate sections of the south side. Alpha Team has anything west of Kwinana Freeway. Everything south of Canning River goes to Beta Team. I'll go with Gamma Team since they'll be understaffed and we'll do the rest, including Perth Airport. Any questions?"

When he looked up and saw that everyone looked satisfied he knew that he had done a good job. It was hard for them to take orders from someone they didn't know, but for now it was apparent that Chris had skills and knew what he was doing.

Chris folded his map back up and told them to be ready in five minutes to move out. Everyone went to their vehicles to start pulling out the supplies they would need for the upcoming march. It was going to be a long and tedious task. They had a lot of land to cover and the heat wasn't going to let up for quite a few hours.

He went back to his truck and grabbed a backpack, loathing the fact that it would add more weight onto him and make him sweat even more. The map went in along with a whole other host of gear like ammo, a field first aid kit, and some military rationed food. He slung it over his shoulder, making sure it didn't interfered with the draw of his handgun. Then he went for the rifle, adding that extra couple of pounds onto his already staggering load. By the time they reached the hospital he might be suffering from heatstroke, but at least he'd be ready for any contingency. Being prepared was the name of the game when you were in situations like this.

They moved and rearranged themselves into formation. Overall there were nine rows of four and then Chris trudging along on his own at the front of the lines. Should they meet any enemies he had told them that he would step to the side, the front row would kneel down, and then the first two rows would open fire. It was as simple as that, though he didn't expect any trouble on the bridge. Not until they got to the end, if anything.

They marched onwards, keeping a steady pace until they reached the bridge. They went slower then, proceeding in a cautious manner. They had loosened up by the time they reached the slimmest part of Narrows Bridge and were going along at quite a generous clip despite how hot they were. When it widened again they spread out to cover the whole bridge. Upon reaching the other side they split up noiselessly, each of the Special Operations Units already knowing their assignments.

Chris chose to go down through Richardson Park with Alpha Team. Richardson Park was the largest of the three places that had been given out as assignments. It was pleasant enough, though. They worked their way south and then came out on the street called South Terrace.

A sense of eeriness began to grow in his chest and he couldn't help but be a bit wary as they moved down the road towards South Perth Hospital. They hadn't seen a single B.O.W. and judging from the lack of radio chatter neither had Beta Team or Gamma Team.

When they caught up with the two other teams they breached the hospital together.

He had been craving some action this whole time and now Chris' wish was fulfilled. Bio-organic weapons descended the moment he and the first group of soldiers entered. They immediately fanned out, spreading so that there wasn't a chance of any of them succumbing to friendly fire. Handguns discharged and bullets ripped through flesh but still they came on. One of them lunged towards Chris, but he put a few rounds through its forehead and down it went.

When the massacre was over none of them were injured and he frowned. They weren't anything special—not a Tyrant or a licker or something of that nature—but their presence still put him on edge.

The rest of Alpha Team began to spread and clear rooms. Beta Team and Gamma Team had been ordered to go through separate entrances. Christ followed in Alpha Team's wake, helping whenever another set of B.O.W's popped up.

When they had finished clearing the entire building they set up shop in the main lobby and he asked, "Anyone injured?" They shook their heads and he answered, "Good. Let's get out on the town then. I want reports from team leaders on the hour."

They all moved out except for the four man team from Gamma that had been chosen to stay at their new base of operations. He didn't split up Gamma Team, much to their team leader's curiosity.

"Shouldn't we utilize our numbers for such a large amount of area?" Reddin asked him.

They had nine people total—the original two groups of four plus Chris Redfield himself. He had already convinced Reddin to reorganize them into smaller teams of three so that they were split up evenly, not that they were going to separate out yet.

"Alpha Team and Beta Team will clear out part of our area as they head south to their own. We have to focus on what they don't cover. My gut's telling me our biggest problem will be Perth Airport. It takes up a huge part of our area and has plenty of space in its hangars for the lab equipment used to produce bio-organic weapons." A look of understanding crossed Reddin's face, but Chris finished up so that the others weren't left in the dark. "Safer to clear that part of the area when we're all together."

He left his map spread out over the coffee table in the hospital's lobby and threw his backpack on the couch after taking out the few necessities that were in their and stowing them somewhere else on his person. He was dying to strip off a few layers of clothing, but he refrained. Thicker clothing meant it was harder to die.

The walk to the airport wasn't as fast as crossing the bridge had been. They were happening upon more B.O.W's now. Chris' finger had to be constantly on the trigger of his gun and his body was always tense as he waited for oncoming attacks.

By the time they reached the outskirts of the airport all of them were breathing hard. They stopped to take a few moments to recuperate, the men all leaning up against the side of the building and sucking in huge, panting breaths. When his chest was moving levelly again he asked, "Are we ready to go in?" Everyone pushed away from the wall and made agreeable answers.

They slammed their way into the main building, guns up and ready to fire, but all that met them was emptiness. The sound of the door being thrown open echoed in the large space.

They spread out and cleared the massive room. One person took the restrooms, a set of two went to the baggage claim, and the rest took care of the various gates and their off shooting rooms. It came out empty, though.

Chris started to doubt his intuition, but then he saw a flash of white disappearing around a corner. Swearing softly under his breath, he reached up and pressed the button on his headset. "Redfield here," he said as he moved down the hallway after the retreating form. "I've got an unidentified person fleeing down onto the runway. If the building's clear go ahead and join me, over."

He hit the emergency stairs, flying down after the other person. He got a good glance and saw that the form was male and dressed in a stained lab coat. His hair was greasy and his hunched body skittered down the stairs in a rat-like manner.

"This is Reddin. We're heading out the back door now. With any luck we'll cut your runner off on the runway, over."

Chris slowed down, not wanting to pressure his prey into running faster. If the man thought he was falling behind then he might slow down and give the others more time to get into position. It did indeed work that way. The dirty scientist glanced over his shoulder and saw that Chris was a few flights up from him. He seemed relieved as he slowed down to a light jog down the flights of stairs. Chris kept on his trail at the same pace.

The scientist reached the ground level and slipped out the door. A few seconds later Chris was hot on his tails. They were on flat ground now, the large cement runway stretching out all around them. Any planes that might have been in the airport were long gone, having been moved to the Sydney airport where the Oceania Branch of the BSAA was located. The entire east coast of Australia had been abandoned a long time ago.

The lab coat clad man was still in a rush, but off to the side Chris could see Gamma Team moving in to block his way. The man must have seen them, too. He started to turn, but Chris picked up a sprint and cut him off. Within moments he was completely surrounded, body trembling as he spun in circles trying to find a way out of the BSAA agents that surrounded him.

"Hands up," Chris demanded.

The greasy man scrambled to look towards him, his hands shaking as he thrust them into the air. "Don't shoot me!" he gasped out, seeing the handguns pointed at his chest. "P-please! I'm just a researcher!"

Chris kept his gun and voice level as he said, "Keep your hands up and no one will shoot." The fidgety man nodded a few times, his pupils flicking towards the other soldiers and then back to Chris nervously. "Who are you and what are you doing here? Talk fast. We won't wait forever."

The man's eyes widened and his lips began forming words immediately. "My name is Nelson Coombes," he sputtered. "I work for the Tricell Pharmaceutical Company." Coombes was singing like a canary, fear flashing through him as he stared down the barrels of the guns. "We've been doing some research here in Perth, in one of the hangars. That's all, I swear!" He seemed desperate for Chris to believe him, as if the BSAA agent might mistake his nerves for him lying and shoot to kill anyways.

When Chris spoke he kept his voice smooth and calming. If this guy got too freaked out and tried to bolt they would be forced to take him down. He wanted to avoid that for now.

"Bio-organic weapons research?" he clarified. That was the only reason that B.O.W's would have shown up in such a remote place like Australia. Why Tricell was involved he didn't know. They funded the BSAA. If they were involved with the production of bio-organic weapons then something needed to be done.

Seeming relieved that he wasn't being branded an elaborate liar, he said, "I don't know. The real crazy stuff happens down at Bentley Hospital. I'm just a grunt, running errands and doing the easy work around here."

He paused and then, when he saw the suspicious looks that Reddin was giving him, Coombes scrambled to add, "No one really knows what's going on! Not unless you're one of the top dogs." He stopped speaking, as if thinking, and then said, "Like Dr. Harton or the guy with the leather and the sunglasses."

Chris felt his stomach lurch.

"Leather and sunglasses?" Reddin finally asked when Chris remained quiet for too long.

Something was gnawing at the pit of Chris' stomach and he already knew what Coombes was going to say before he said it. He lowered his gun the slightest bit, trusting the other men to have their sights trained on their target.

"Yeah," Nelson Coombes confirmed. "Tall guy. Maybe six foot or six foot three? Blond, slicked back hair. Probably in his forties, but in great shape."

Each addition to the description was like a blow to the gut for Chris. The man kept hitting him and hitting him with the startling information until it felt like he couldn't breathe anymore. Reddin, on the other hand, just looked more confused. He passed Coombes a raised eyebrow and the greasy man shrugged and mumbled, "I'm a scientist. We're supposed to notice stuff like that."

Reddin said his name and Chris looked up from where he had been focusing on the ground as he thought. His full attention returned to the task at hand and he steeled himself for the answer he might get to the question that had to be asked.

"Did you ever hear someone say his name? Maybe refer to him as Wesker?"

That just confused Reddin even more, the unfamiliar name making him squint and reevaluate Chris, but a light of recognition went on in Coombes. That was enough for Chris to know that the situation in Perth had just grown more complicated than Gamma's team leader could ever know.

Wesker should have been dead. Chris had been there when his partner Jill had tackled the man through a window and off of a cliff. They had never found her body—or Wesker's—and he had been secretly holding out hope that she was alive somewhere. But was it worth it if it meant that menace was still living? Jill had been willing to give her life to end Wesker's. If he was still alive and she wasn't, he didn't know if he could handle that. He needed to know the truth, though.

Resolved, Chris holstered his gun and then stepped out of the hasty circle that had been formed around the fleeing scientist. "Reddin, secure the rest of Perth Airport. I'll take care of the rest of the area and send a call back to the Oceania Branch Headquarters for immediate transport for all captured parties to a secure facility."

Reddin nodded, understanding that he was to detain anyone that was found within the airport. He was short a few men, but they could handle that. Satisfied, Chris turned around and left them to handle things on their own. The rest of their area needed to be covered and he could do it faster—albeit a bit sloppier—on his own.

Not to mention the fact that he wanted to have a heart to heart chat with Wesker—if he really was alive and out there somewhere.

* * *

 _This is for Katie, who dragged this story up from out of the sewer so that I could dust it off and lace the pieces back together_ _—and it's for everyone that messaged me asking where Nine Millimeter went when I originally took it down._

 _Sometimes (very rarely), we stumble upon that one dream that manages to come true._


End file.
